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Chapter 172: Princes of the Sword (6) New
A lone beacon pulsed behind them, throwing a cold wash of light across the ridge. Past it, the Ocean of Storms lay like a scar where someone had taken a knife to the world. No sound, except the soft, patient thrum of the generator and the tick of cooling metal.

Pahanin had his boots up on a crate, hood shoved back, a spanner turning lazy circles in one hand. Kaviss stood on the perimeter, yes, squinted against glare, splicer arms folded across his chest with the stillness only an Eliksni could pull off. Void watched the horizon patiently.

Obsidian's shell tilted. "Three coming up on approach."

The stars blurred. Three jumpships cut across the black horizon, contrails streaking white arcs as they broke formation at the last second. They came in low and controlled, gliding down from altitude.

The transmats stitched themselves onto the lunar surface, and three figures appeared from within.

Levi landed first, cloak hissing around his ankles, the purple whorl on his cowl half-shrouded by dust. Bandit came next, sliding a half step and catching himself with a stomp. Cory landed on his feet, crouched and ready to prowl.

"Air's still garbage," Cory groused through his filter. "Can't believe we had to come back here."

Bandit shrugged, quick grin. "You get used to it after a while."

Cory snorted, "Yeah, if Iweres mopping around caves and crevices as much as you, I'd probably be used to this air as well."

Levi's eyes swept the ridge—perimeter markers, antenna lattice, low dome, the makeshift Vault terminal still humming, he looked around until his eyes finally landed on Void, silently sitting on a crate, a faint gust of wind fluttered his cloak.

"Look who found us a cosy little outpost," Levi said with a smirk.

Void turned and got to his feet. The glow from the beacon rolled across his armour, catching hairline scars and new scrapes he hadn't bothered to buff out. He met Levi halfway; their fists bumped.

"Nice camp," Levi said, then tipped his chin past Void's shoulder. "And—who's the guy with the drip?"

Pahanin stayed brooding, his armour shone with a silvery shimmer, and the neon blue lines creased his cloak. He looked up and gave Levi a small nod, but paid them no more attention.

Void didn't miss a beat. "Him? Found the guy on the shore. He's amazing at weapons, so we stuck together."

Levi nodded, letting the thought simmer in his mind for a bit while he looked Pahanin up and down. Then he hummed to Void. "Uh-huh, a hunter on the Shore. Was he a rogue?" He looked towards Pahanin and flicked two fingers in greeting. "Nice drip."

"No, just a bit of a recluse. Wouldn't worry about it." Void replied.

Bandit's attention had gone elsewhere—past the tents, past the dish, to the eight feet of splicer steel and blue blood standing watch like a statue. He jogged up, eyes bright. "Okay, and why is there a Fallen captain at our Lunar Cookout?

Void shrugged as if that question answered itself. "Kaviss. Joined VENOM as splicer tech."

All three Nightstalkers went very still for a heartbeat, their eyes scanning Kaviss with great interest.

"Splicer tech," Levi repeated.

Kaviss dipped his head, translator purring to life at his throat. "For now, I am… technical support," he said carefully, eyes sliding from Levi to Bandit to Cory, then away, respectful without being meek.

Bandit's grin cracked wide as he walked up to the Eliksni. He pointed at the steel that had replaced sinew on both forearms. "May I—?"

Kaviss extended one arm. Bandit turned the limb under his palm like a piece of art. Etched plates. Micro-actuators. A joint that wasn't supposed to bend that way until a splicer made it. "Clean. Did you implant these yourself?"

"No, I was forced," Kaviss said, a quiet rumble. "They ripped my arms out and installed these."

"Gruesome." Bandit clicked his tongue, still eyeing the splicer arms. "Well, at least you got good gear out of it."

Cory snapped back, "Not everyone's as greedy for loot as you, rat bastard."

"Huh? Who the ff*cks are you talking to?" Bandit quipped.

Levi said nothing for a long minute and just looked around—felt the edges, tested the weight of what they'd built.

"Not bad," he said finally. No indulgence in it. Just the assessment of someone who knew what it meant to have a forward line that didn't fall apart if you breathed on it. "You planning to hand this to the City as is?"

Void nodded. "Call it a sanctuary. Uplink, Vault touchpoint, rally for fireteams before we start drawing maps on Hellmouth. Command can sit here and map it out. Plus, squads and come back here if things go wrong, and not die in the first ten minutes."

Levi pinged something on his wrist. "Sending a confirm to Zavala." He waited for the tone that said received, then glanced toward the beacon.

"Tell Zavala everything's ready to use," Void said. "Let the City finish it as they like."

Levi's gaze drifted back to Pahanin and Kaviss. "And these two?"

"Staying." Void jerked a thumb toward the dome. "Pahanin will babysit the Vault interface and tune the mesh. Kaviss will keep the projector and generators running for now till the City hooks up other power."

Levi's shoulders bounced once. "Duly noted."

He keyed in a message on his wrist again, but this time the comms in his ear rang and he answered the call.

"Vanguard, Skywatch Outpost reports: ridge hub viable. Sanctuary functions online in skeleton mode. Request immediate deployment of relay arrays, med sledges, and three—no, four—ammo barges."

Levi paused; the comms blinked as a voice on the other end spoke.

Levi looked around and finally replied, "...No, Cayde, they did not put a rug down." He shook his head. "Huh? No, no, I won't ask them to do that.....What? Just..wait. Wait, is Ikorra there? Yeah? Just hand her the phone."

He grumbled, pinching his forehead, "Hello?"

Ikorra's reply came immediately, "This is Ikorra, thanks for your confirmation, we're coming." Then she closed the channel.

Levi breathed a sigh, then looked at Void, "Okay," he said, and there was weight tucked under the syllables. "That's the camp. What's your plan?"

Void had already turned toward the Umbral Veil looming in the distance.

"I'm going back," he said.

"Back?" Levi echoed. "To where?"

"You know where. I left something unfinished." Void stepped away.

Levi's head tilted, "You want company?"

"Not for this, it's a bit dangerous," Void said, voice low. "If I'm not back, just tell Ikorra I am still looking around Hellmouth. Also, don't let anyone come near the Veil. Not right now."

Levi didn't ask what Void planned to do, or whether Void was sure, or if he'd finally lost the sense he'd pretended to have. All he knew was that his instincts told him Void was on the right track, or perhaps that was just his own hunch.

"Good luck. I am counting on you." Levi tapped him on the shoulder.

Void nodded softly, "So am I."

Bandit swung back into step beside them. He held out his arms, one stretched behind the other, while he mimed aiming a bow around the perimeter of the ridge. "You sure about walking into that alone, chief?"

"No," Void said. "But it's not the first bad idea that turned out necessary."

Cory yanked his hood tighter and looked like he wanted to argue. Then he didn't. "Fine, let us know if you need help," he said, hands up. "We'll be there before you blink."

"I know." Void waved them off and kept walking.

He reached the ridge's edge and didn't bother with ceremony. Light curled around his eyes as they turned a shade of blue. His figure flared with lightning, and the world thinned. For instance, the Moon showed him its bones: tunnels like veins, chambers like mouths.

Void's light jolted around him, then he was gone.
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Chapter 173: Princes of the Sword (7) New
The jagged walls of the World's Grave stirred with a rhythm Void did not recognise, an eerie low pulse reverberated through the rock, as if the archive had finally roared to life, no longer bound by silence.

Halfway down the last step, Void stopped. The depths below hummed. A wicked presence moved in the archive, one that had not been here the first time. Void leaned closer to the wall; his instincts flared.

'I can feel something, what is it?' The thought echoed in his mind.

Zamyr whispered back, ~Careful~

Void crept closer and angled one eye around the jagged wall. Four wizards drifted towards the top of the archives, doggedly labouring away to mark more scrolls. Mossy runic lamps flittered at the hems of their tattered robes, shading the depths of the archive with their sickly green hue.

"Wizards..." Void frowned, "What are they doing here?"

~...Archiving?~ Zamyr tilted his head.

Void sighed, clenched his teeth and whispered back, "I know that...I meant, why are they here now!"

~Perhaps we left quite the mess last time. Looks like they're busy organising the scrolls back to their place.~ Zamyr shook his head.

"Great." Void pinched his forehead, "So the archives are closed for cleanup? What do we do now? If we fight here, the guardian Knight's gonna come running."

~Indeed, nothing in these chambers hides from his eyes.~ Zamyr nodded.

"Any ideas?" Void softly heaved a breath, his eyes darted around the room, tracking the wizards who were enscribing the scrolls.

Zamyr paused, a fleeting wisdom flashed in his spirit, ~There is one way. Imagine the wizard. Feel its magic, you can see it, can't you?~

Void frowned, his pupils flickered with an azure glint, he closed his eyes and etched the shape by memory: The sway of their tattered robes, the sickly magic curling their figure, and their wretched presence. Void imagined every last detail.

~Good.~ Zamyr's phantom stirred.

A pale light enveloped Void. When he moved again, the air took him for a wizard; he changed, as if the world itself forgot what he looked like.

Void's eyes widened, and he stared down at his arms, now transformed to deathly pale appendages, his fingers curled around his face, a mere husk shaped by bone.

"This..." Void hummed in thought, "Will work."

~An illusion. One that will break, but for now, use it well.~

He floated forwards, robes swaying in the wind. Void reached towards the archive and entered it.

Void's presence seemed to break the silence; one wizard turned its face toward him by instinct. The black pits in its skull reflected nothing, but it held its gaze, as if to measure him. For a moment, Void held his breath, and the air shifted.

But then, the wizard finally turned away, continuing its work.

Obsidian kept close, transformed to a faint shadow that tugged at the hems of Void's robe, his voice damped to a whisper. "I have the records from last time. The archive hasn't changed. If we're still looking for sword-rites, it would be towards the end of the hall."

Void kept the glide smooth and slow, flittering down the archive. Ahead, runic lamps hung on the ceiling, and as he approached, they drew close, hovering above a lane of shelves that breathed stale and bitter.

When his hands touched the bones, the scrolls unravelled.

The first one held scripture on the Hive's law of conquering. He closed it. Void knew there was nothing more than rituals to defile and desecrate within it. The second scroll rattled, and as he touched it, visions of creating binding runic enchantments flashed in his mind.

He closed it. The knowledge was far too skewed; it wasn't something he could comprehend, not now.

The third scroll on the shelf stirred, almost as af it wept. Void opened it, and etched within was the fable of a Hive knight who had ascended by claiming the souls of his own reflections. Void's fingers caressed the scroll, brushing past the inscriptions. They seemed recent, far too recent. Yet at the same time, they felt ancient.

He looked closer, and the inscriptions trembled, changing their shape. The scroll felt alive, but there was no memory stored within; it seemed incomplete. Void hesitated, but finally put it back.

The last scroll on the shelf illustrated the ritual of rites sung by the Swarm Princes during a siege that had lasted centuries.

He opened it and waited. The words flared like old scars, and the glyphs organised as meaning before sound. He did not blink.

Void channelled his light within, and the vision came.

The memory did not waste time with reverence. What he saw was a blade, bound by chains. Surrounding the blade were Hive princes. They knelt, whispering old and wicked magic into the sword. And as the centuries passed, the blade hummed.

The world flared around him, the memory of the scroll stretched further and further, but there was no more to see. Finally, Void heaved a breath, and he was thrown out.

"That sword."

~The blade of ruin~ Zamyr continued, ~So we finally understand its origins.~

"Centuries of dark magic poured into the blade. I guess the Hive really don't hold back." Void shook his head.

~It is magic that made it. Only magic can undo it.~ Zamyr concluded, his words drifting into the silence of the archive.

"What if I killed those who bind it? All the ones that gave it the power to begin with." Void's thoughts raced, "Would that not be enough?"

Zamyr considered it, but then he paused, his thoughts drifting through timelines.

~No. It's not enough. The sword has spent centuries consuming souls to strengthen its power. Its strength is beyond its makers. Even if you remove the bindings that attach it to our world, the sword will not become undone. And if the sword remains....~

"Crota will find a few to rebind it." Void grimly nodded, "If the sword was made by magic, can you not do anything? What if I break its bindings, and then you consume it?"

Zamyr flinched and eyed Void, ~To consider eating that magic is daring.~

~It is possible, but the darkness in the sword is something beyond even me. I'll do what I can.~

"That'll be enough." Void glided deeper, taking one last look at the page in his sight until the characters sank into him. He folded the knowledge down and put it with the rest.

But Void wasn't done. He still needed context for the mechanism the Hive referred to as sword logic. He read the shelves, dust slanted thicker where the older scrolls were racked.

Void took the oldest three and opened them. Some of what he saw inside, he already knew.

The idea of it was simple. Brutal, but clean. A cut was a statement: I am stronger than what I took from you. If the soul accepted the statement, then sword logic reinforced it.

But what he found next shocked him.

Sword logic was incomplete. The Hive couldn't force its will onto the world. Despite their wretched magic, in the end, they were still mortal. So they used a conduit, one given to them by the ancient darkness. The Hive used protoworms.

Pseudo-worms that fed on tithes of soul, and allowed the Hive to commune with the world's laws. Through them, the hive ascended. Through them, the Hive made sword logic.

Void shuddered. He had known about the worms, but seeing them in a memory was entirely different. He could understand why the Hive had chosen to use them. The protoworm seemed harmless at first. But as it continued to grow, a strange power bloomed within it, one that allowed its wielder to etch their will into the world.

Void continued his search, looking for all the ways the Hive had tried to contact the protoworms, how they had done their rituals, what the worms had promised them, and what the Hive had done to finally ascend. As it all was revealed to him, Void finally understood why the prince of ruin had shown interest in him on that fateful day.

He had noticed it. Zamyr's presence. A way to imprint will onto reality. A way that was eerily similar to sword logic, and yet entirely different. Perhaps the prince of ruin himself wanted to see how Void had achieved it.

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I wonder if this is a hint that Void is becoming closer to the Ahamkara, like Eris did to the Hive. Illusion/transformation is cool, and fun d2 fact both Hive worms and Ahamkara use the "O (noun) mine" format of speaking to bind their will onto others.
 
I wonder if this is a hint that Void is becoming closer to the Ahamkara, like Eris did to the Hive. Illusion/transformation is cool, and fun d2 fact both Hive worms and Ahamkara use the "O (noun) mine" format of speaking to bind their will onto others.

Nice fact for sure, and it somewhat fits my own theory of what the protoworms are. We do know they are similar to lesser dragons (a bit like the Ahamkara). But where the Ahamkara feed on possibility, the protoworms are simply parasites that feed on tithes owed to them. An Ahamkara is far stronger; in fact, it's almost a ridiculous argument. The Ahamkara grant wishes that when fulfilled, it would cut the strings of fate surrounding that wish. They've stolen "what could have been" with "what should be", according to you. Naturally, they don't give you exactly what you wanted, just something similar. Depending on what your wish even is, and what the Ahamkara is capable of. Once you ask for it, it is a contract which is considered fulfilled. The possibilities of the thing are swallowed up by them, granting them a higher status in the world.

To boil it down, Ahamkara's are similar to glass cannons, in that whatever they grant has a devious adverse effect (not under their control, it is simply the world rebounding to make itself right). In contrast, Protoworms are slow and sluggish, tedious taskmasters, but when they do get around to their later stages, they make you IMMENSELY powerful. Example: Crota, Oryx, Savathun....

One key advantage is that protoworms can be taken advantage of. But it's very hard to take advantage of an Ahamkara.
 
Nice fact for sure, and it somewhat fits my own theory of what the protoworms are. We do know they are similar to lesser dragons (a bit like the Ahamkara). But where the Ahamkara feed on possibility, the protoworms are simply parasites that feed on tithes owed to them. An Ahamkara is far stronger; in fact, it's almost a ridiculous argument. The Ahamkara grant wishes that when fulfilled, it would cut the strings of fate surrounding that wish. They've stolen "what could have been" with "what should be", according to you. Naturally, they don't give you exactly what you wanted, just something similar. Depending on what your wish even is, and what the Ahamkara is capable of. Once you ask for it, it is a contract which is considered fulfilled. The possibilities of the thing are swallowed up by them, granting them a higher status in the world.

To boil it down, Ahamkara's are similar to glass cannons, in that whatever they grant has a devious adverse effect (not under their control, it is simply the world rebounding to make itself right). In contrast, Protoworms are slow and sluggish, tedious taskmasters, but when they do get around to their later stages, they make you IMMENSELY powerful. Example: Crota, Oryx, Savathun....

One key advantage is that protoworms can be taken advantage of. But it's very hard to take advantage of an Ahamkara.
Only way I can think of taking advantage of an Ahamkara is to trick it into granting its own wish, dissolving their fate of what they could have been only into that one wish. Idk how difficult this would be though, but protoworms definitely are strong- but not Ahamkara strong. I'm curious if Void could get Zamyr to absorb a protoworms soul/power to rekindle its wishing ability. As the worms are slow power builders, Zamyr could absorb that aspect and slowly absorb power to rise above what it was as a living. Ahamkara
 
Chapter 174: Princes of the Sword (8) New
[Sanctuary, Ocean of Storms]

The sanctuary on the outer ridges of the Ocean of Storms had finally been finished. The city had used salvaged ship plates and scraps to make walls that blocked the wind, wire-bound fluorescent lamps at the tops of the canopies and erected sentry spots for their hunters. These watchtowers stood with their backs to base, scouting every inch of the Lunar expanse for movement.

In the centre of the sanctuary, voices lowered as Ikorra, Cayde, Zavala, and Tevis gathered, drawn to the same table of scarred wood where they had laid out old maps that had been weighted by knives and empty magazines. With the Hive's influence interfering with their network, many holographic terminals were of no use, and everyone had resorted to the old ways to track and navigate.

Tevis shifted, his eyes flicked to the edge of the Sanctuary, and he cleared his throat, making everyone's eyes shift towards a single spot.

There, in the distance, the shadows stirred at the perimeter. Void's figure flickered once, then he crossed the threshold without announcement, creeping towards the central tent.

"Welcome back," Ikorra spoke up as Void ducked into the tent.

Cayde set a palm on the table and inclined his head toward Pahanin. "You know, you've got quite the partner."

Tevis looked past the lamp-glare to where Kaviss stood, "I'd say the same."

Ikorra's gaze sharpened, a question already fully formed. "How did you convince a Devil Captain to stand with you?"

Void dusted his hands; he did not look at Kaviss when he answered. "I didn't. He chose to repay a favour."

Kaviss inclined his helm a fraction, nothing more, as if admitting to it silently.

The table held its silence for a heartbeat, and Zavala watched Void with keen eyes. "You went down there for a reason," he said and took a pause. "I believe you have come back with one."

"Yes." Void let the breath leave him. He raised his palm, and Obsidian appeared from it—black, the lamplight caught along his shell with a glaring reflection. "I brought something you should see."

The lamps flickered again, but this time, with a strange rhythm. Obsidian unfolded the memory that Void had seen, and the space above the table altered. Glyphs are organised by meaning before sound. The language of souls took a form their nerves could understand without breaking; it entered through the skin and settled behind the eyes like heat.

They saw a pit lined in ribs and filled with darkness. Around it, knights beat the ground in a rhythm. In the centre, a blade existed above the dark abyss; around it, the Swarm Princes knelt and poured their oaths into the dark until the dark took the shape that would carry them. Centuries passed in a single held breath, a ripple ran through the dark, and then the blade finally hummed.

Void let the vision run till the end, and finally spoke up. "This was how Crota's sword was made."

The projection shifted. Runes unspooled as lines of argument. The choir of princes that took the oaths reappeared, but now the chain was shown as links, each link named by voice and promise.

"The sword was bound to our world by its makers," Void said. "It is anchored by those who swore their oaths. Kill them—the ones who started it all and the ones who later lent it strength—and the tether fails."

No one moved. The camp fell deathly silent, and a chill gripped the air.

Ikorra's voice was low, "And after the tether fails?"

"Without the tether, the sword will not have any connection to our world." Void pursed his lips, his eyes shifting from one face to the other, "It will become undone."

Obsidian dimmed the memory and left behind a single, austere diagram: a chain with links marked by the shapes of oaths that each Swarm Prince had taken.

Cayde studied the image without speaking, as if the room had gone too close to the line for language to be safely casual. Pahanin stood just behind him, hands loose, attention fixed. Tevis just read the chains, like he was committing them to memory.

Zavala did not look away from Void. "You are certain of the condition?"

"As certain as the archive allowed us to be," Void said. He chose the next words with care and laid them down one by one. "This is all I know. And now, you know it too."

The silence fell again, but this time, the room stirred.

Ikorra's thoughts raced. She inquired, "The sequence you showed us—the choir that keeps the blade in the world, how strong are they?" Her eyes narrowed a degree. "How much time will it take to kill a prince?"

"Probably enough to make the work costly," Tevis said before Void could answer. His tone remained even. "Those didn't look like normal Hive. Probably as strong as they come."

Void nodded, "The princes aren't weak, but they're not infallible either. While the sword exists, their powers are bound to it. Find them where they hide, and kill them. Without them, Crota will not have a weapon to wield."

Ikorra's glance flicked to Void and back. "Was there anything else in the archives?"

"No." Void looked at her and shook his head, "This was it."

Cayde drew a slow breath. "Then the work is simple," he said. "Find these princes, and then..." His hands mimed a dagger slicing across the throat, "Well, you get the idea."

Zavala's jaw tightened, and he looked outside the shelter, gaze lingering at Hellmouth in the distance, "Are they inside?"

Void looked towards the same place, sharing his gaze."They are."

Slowly, everyone in the shelter did the same.

They stood around the scarred wood and measured themselves against what was now required. The lamps hummed, quiet and clean. Tevis broke the silence first, not with a conclusion, but with direction. "I will take a squad inside," he said. "Our tracking skills are the best. We can find them. Besides, I don't think any of you can hide yourself that well."

Ikorra looked again at the dimmed diagram on the table, then closed her hand over the thought of it. "When these princes are all killed, will he know?"

"He will, but for now, he can't do anything," Void replied slowly, "Trust me."

Zavala did not ask a word after that. He quieted down and placed his hand on Void's shoulders, letting those words brew in the silence. "Then we begin."

The meeting dissolved, and an instant later, orders were left in the runners' hands. Lamps steadied. The noise of work resumed, and the camp began to hustle. One by one, the people scattered towards their stations.

Pahanin lingered as the others stepped away. His voice stayed low. "You came back with something we can use."

Void nodded.

Pahanin's gaze held on him for a heartbeat longer, as if acknowledging a portion not spoken aloud. He did not press it. He simply moved towards the exit. "I'll prepare what we need. Come to me if you need anything."

Kaviss passed near, a fraction closer than courtesy required. "Void or Viper," he said, each syllable weighed. "You have many names."

"I do. Surprised?" Void answered with a faint smile.

"No. Either way, I shall pay what I owe." Kaviss shook his head, sauntering towards the perimeter of the sanctuary to stand guard. "Farewell."

Following him, Void stepped out into the open.

~You drew the line where it needed to be~ Zamyr murmured, quieter now. ~If they were to know of the sword's lingering power, they might not agree to destroy it.~

"I did what I could." Void replied with a whisper only he could hear, "For now, let's go with it till we find a way to figure it out. And find out where those princes are hiding. Tell me everything."

Zamyr chuckled, ~Of course, O brother mine~

Void trudged towards the edges of the ridge. He looked back towards the camp as it breathed, guardians racing across it to prepare for what came next. Then he looked at Hellmouth, his eyes turning a shade of azure while he scanned the movements of the Hive inside the veil. A few minutes later, there still hadn't been any changes, and Void finally blinked, heaving a sigh as he turned back to continue his work.

"Obsidian, compile all the data we found in the Archive. Make a local backup and send it to the Workshop's archives later. Make sure not to use the City's network." Void murmured, walking towards Pahanin's station.

Obsidian's eyes pulsed; he flittered beside Void, "I'll get it done."

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Chapter 175: Princes of the Sword (9) New
[Hellmouth, Ocean of Storms]

Wind crawled across the lip of Hellmouth and scattered away into the soundless dark abyss. Void walked towards the seam of the Umbral veil, to the exact gap he had cut days before and set his palm to the surface; the veil shivered under his touch like taut skin. Power ran through it in cold pulses, steady and unhurried, and his eyes flicked to the place his blade had once cut through.

The edges of the tear had knit themselves together, closing at the seams. Almost as if the Veil had healed on its own. Void brushed his fingers over it and pressed lightly, though the marks were barely visible, the Veil wasn't back to full strength.

A group of footsteps echoed behind him, approaching closer, but staying a healthy distance away from the pulsing dark curtain.

"So, we good to go?" Tevis asked from behind, ensuring his voice was quiet enough not to awaken anything.

Void turned. Tevis stood with Bandit and Cory to his side, while Pahanin and Levi held the other flank. All five held their breaths and keenly observed the veil.

Void nodded once, "We are."

He loosened his shoulders and unsheathed the blade. Zamyr's presence flared, and the blade's metal returned a pale reflection. "The gap I made was sealed", he said, keeping his eyes ahead. "It's small work to make another."

Void drew in a slow breath, and the edge of the sword brightened, a thin, cold lumen that feathered the steel. Where he traced the line, the Veil's weave thinned and then receded.

Levi stepped nearer despite himself, head tilted, nostrils flaring as if scent would help him understand. His voice stayed low. "That blade… really gives me the creeps." He cocked his head, listening where no one else did. "Can't you hear the whispers? Some weird stuff."

Pahanin's eyes did not leave the Veil. "You learn to live with it after a while," he said.

Levi glanced at him. "Doesn't it unsettle you?"

"Let's just say, I've been through worse." Pahanin shrugged and walked towards Void.

His advancing figure caught Levi's eye, and the hunter raised his brows in surprise, "Cool."

Void cut the last seam of the veil's thread with a turn of the wrist and let the blade fall still. The opening held, not ragged but deliberate, edges clean and wet-looking, lightless air moving within as if the night on the other side had its own rules.

Tevis flickered and came up to the threshold. He studied the work with patience, examining Void's precision. "Better than before," The corner of his mouth shifted, then settled. "You've been practising."

"I guess." Void slid the sword back into its sheath. "I had plenty of time." Void looked back and gestured for everyone to come closer.

They all moved to the front, stopping inches away from the lip of the gate.

"We'll be splitting up into two squads and looking for the Swarm princes. You see one, you kill one." Void chimed up, eyeing everyone, "One last thing, don't get spotted, don't make a sound, don't even breathe. If you get spotted, all of Hellmouth will know we're there. Is that clear?"

Bandit stretched his arms, an onyx dagger twirling in his fingers, "Crystal."

"Doesn't sound that hard." Cory threw out some punches, hopping from one foot to the other. He turned into his uppercut and sliced through the air, "Who are we going with?"

Void took Pahanin and Levi to his right, "I'll stick with those two."

Tevis nooded and took Bandit and Cory. "Where are the Princes?" Tevis asked, glancing once towards the barren expanse waiting ahead. "We can't possibly find them without traces."

"Not fixed," Void said. "But the archive left an approach; there is a way to track them, but it's quite unsettling."

Tevis raised an eyebrow.

Tracking the sword is tracking the princes, Zamyr whispered into his ears, crisp and unadorned.

The blade carries what it has eaten. Guardians died on it. Some part of their Light scarred into the edge. Find that residue—and you will find the links that lead to the voices that held the chain.

Void met Tevis's eye. "The sword keeps what it has taken. Considering the last time it was used was the war....There's a trace of Light on it—thin, but there. If we follow the residue, we'll find the links. Links mean the princes."

The wind lifted, then fell flat again. No one spoke for a breath. The silence that followed was not reluctance. It was the kind that made space for consequence.

Tevis nodded once, his face settling into a grim frown, "Then we follow it." He raised his palm, "Riqi, track the residual light from the Lunar war, search for the highest concentration around Hellmouth."

A shimmering, bright ghost appeared, its eyes pulsing as it scanned ahead, "I'll relay our network, make it easier to scan as we go." Riqi flittered above, sending requests to the ghosts around.

Obsidian responded, flaring with a pulse. Bandit's and Cory's Ghosts rose in tandem, their beams narrow and disciplined; Levi's Ghost kept wider, sampling eddies and discarding noise.

"Keep the scans on, once we start, we're bound to run into something," Void said. "No broad pings. We take what the ground gives."

"Understood," Pahanin said.

Tevis rolled one shoulder and looked to his two. "We ride the low ledges and cross ridges that lead towards Hellmouth. Bandit, you mark every place the trace pulses. Cory, use those shadows of yours to check, and count 'em up. We'll need the rhythm later."

Bandit nodded. "Got it."

Cory touched two fingers to his helm and lowered his chin. "On marking duty."

Void looked to Levi. "You and I'll spread to get the scans, Pahanin's gonna scout the places."

Levi raised his brow slowly, "Alone? Is that guy that fast?"

"Don't worry about that, I got it." Pahanin chimed in, tapping the side of his ear.

Void flicked his wrist, his sparrow materialised under him, and the others did the same. Six sparrows lined the gap across the Veil, their engines sputtering to life.

Void set the nose of his Sparrow toward the cut, held the brakes and revved. The thrusters blasted into the sand, and the Sparrow roared. "Let's go!" He lifted the sonic break and shot forward; the veil thrummed as he blasted through it, into the distance.

Pahanin leaned forward, his sparrow sliced through the sand and followed closely behind, Levi took in a breath, and did the same.

"On me," Tevis said, cruising through the gap, already angling his Sparrow to the left-hand descent line. "We'll take this side. No heroics, you see something, you say something."

Pahanin raced beside Void. "Your captain's quite bossy. I can see where you get that attitude from."

"That he is, and I'll take that as a compliment", Void chuckled, cutting to the right as he answered.

"You dogs! Relax." Levi chimed up from the back, streaking towards them.

Obsidian's voice thinned to work. "Picking up a thread—it's very faint. "

"Take it," Void said.

The moment the squads got closer to Hellmouth, an algid chill gripped their bones; the air itself was replaced by dense fog that blocked their visors. The sound changed; even the engines seemed to breathe quietly. All they could rely on was their Ghosts.

"IT'S COLD as f*ck," Bandit reported. "Also, I've got a signal south west."

"Copy that, I'll check it out," Cory added.

"Clear comms and do your damn job," Tevis shook his head, racing deeper into the desert.

Levi rode a half-length back and to Void's right, head canted like a hound catching a deep scent. "I see something there," he said under his breath. "Looks weird though."

Pahanin didn't look away from the line. "Stay with the trace. I'll check." His sparrow drifted to the side, a flicker of light wisped away from his body, and was whisked away towards the source.

"Whoa! What the hell was that?" Levi sped up to his side and asked, checking Pahanin up and down.

Void sighed, "Let the man do his job." He checked the other traces Obsidian had highlighted. "I see three more north-east, go do those as well. We'll be riding this line till the end."

"You heard him, guess we'll talk later." Pahanin saluted and rode off on a tangent, wisps of light flickering off his body one by one to different directions.

The hunters continued their tracking, riding across the expanse around Hellmouth as the trace moved like a taut line pulled under the surface, surfacing only long enough to leave behind signs. Six ghosts still calculated and called bearings; The hunders adjusted ever so often.

Twice, they had passed strange pillars where the Veil thickened into a wall, blocking their entry. Once, they'd even cut their power and stalled their sparrows, letting a cohort of patrolling wizards drift across the dark horizon.

"Still nothing," Cory said, pulling back his tendrils. "That's like the fifth thing I've checked."

"One last point," Tevis answered. "Mark it."

On the other side of Hellmouth, Obsidian skimmed his beam along a tunnel they'd found digging into the dark lunar soil, and pulled a faint lattice up out of the black—an imprint left when Light remained. "Residual alignment," he said, softly. "There's a faint trace of light. But no one's ever been here."

Void heard the acknowledgement and nodded, "We're on it," he said. "Follow."

Levi, Pahanin and Void raced down the path that stretched into the abyss below. No one hurried. No one made a sound. They tracked the Light that still lingered in the dark, the light that the Hive hadn't bothered to erase, keeping it as a trophy, as a mark of honour and pride.

Now, that light would soon become the very thing leading to their ruin.
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Chapter 176: Princes of the Sword (10) New
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Levi, Void, and Pahanin rode deeper into the abyss, their Sparrows cutting through the descending dark, thrusters flickering against the stone as they followed the faint trace of Light.

The air grew heavy around them, sharp turns of the tunnel pulling them deeper into a space that was no longer just dark—it was dense, murky and alive.

The further they moved, the lighter the signs of the trace became, akin to a whisper in a storm. The path in front of them narrowed, jagged rocks closing in as the tunnel sloped deeper.

Void slowed, he swerved his Sparrow hard to the left, using the sonic brakes to come to a sharp stop. A thrum struck the rocks, throwing up a cloud of dust, and his foot slammed into the dirt, a quick, deliberate gesture to silence the momentum.

Levi and Pahanin pulled their Sparrows in beside him, the two of them nodding with understanding as they followed his lead.

Void dismounted, his movements smooth and controlled. He glanced back at them, gesturing to follow.

Void's eyes flickered azure; he scanned the dark abyss urgently. Gaze darting from one corner to the other, until it finally settled on something in the distance.

"It's here," he said softly, his voice a low hum against the dark. He raised a finger and pointed towards the abyss that stretched to the end of the tunnel. "The trace we've been following—it's settled here."

Levi's sharp eyes eagerly scanned the dark. "Where exactly?" he asked, his voice low but laced with curiosity.

Pahanin leaned over, questioningly peeking at the abyss, "There's nothing there."

"There is." Void raised his hand, signalling them to quiet down.

Void silently stepped forward, hand crept through the darkened passage. His eyes glowed an intense azure, a stark contrast to the blackness around him. He squinted, narrowing his vision as he peered deeper into the shadows.

At the far end of the tunnel, where the darkness seemed to pulse like a heartbeat, Void's voice broke the silence. "It's a nest." His words were cold, a statement, but the weight of them hung in the air. "A Swarm Prince's nest for sure. And we've found it."

Pahanin and Levi followed suit, inching behind Void.

Levi gave a nonchalant shrug. "Whatever you say, man, just tell me where to shoo," he muttered, his tone dismissive as he looked to Pahanin, who stood beside him, expression unreadable.

"What he said." Pahanin sighed. He rubbed his eyes and peered at the dark again, but nothing changed. His brows furled, and he quieted down.

Void shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to Levi. "Sure. See that thing down there? The Swarm Princes aren't just any Hive—they have the power to summon the Hive. If we don't kill this one fast, we'll be flooded with acolytes before we can even finish the job."

Levi raised an eyebrow, a slight frown on his face. "So, what, we just rush it and kill it?"

Void nodded, the silence stretching. "Exactly. But we need to move quickly." His gaze flicked to Pahanin, who was still brooding.

Pahanin nodded, his hand softly brushed against the hilt of his sword, "If we're not quick, the numbers will overwhelm us. We need to strike before the Prince calls for reinforcements."

"Right." Levi clasped his hand. He looked back at Void, his lips curved into a sly smile. "Then we need to distract it, right? We'll probably need something flashy?"

"I guess?" Void tilted his head.

Pahanin's gaze met Levi's. "Hmm." They shared a glance, nothing was spoken, but one thing was for sure, they had a plan. The silence between them stretched for a moment longer before Levi finally broke it.

"Right," Levi said, shrugging with a grin. "So what I'm saying is, someone's gotta pull it out. Get the Prince's attention."

Void blinked, his gaze shifting between Levi and Pahanin, and a slow, dawning realisation crept in. "Wait—wait wait." He turned his head toward them, and he cleared his throat. "You two are planning to use me as bait, aren't you?"

Levi's grin widened, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. He held his hands up innocently "Well, you are the one with the magic blade, aren't you? Seemed like the obvious choice."

Pahanin's lips quirked into a thin smile. "You'll be fine. You're always fine." His voice was even, but there was something in it—something that felt almost too measured to be entirely reassuring.

Void's eyes flickered between them, taking in the subtle shift of their expressions. The faint grin tugging at Levi's lips, the slight tilt of Pahanin's head. His gaze narrowed slightly as he gulped dryly.

"Well, if this goes sideways, I'm going to make sure you two get eaten first." Void's voice was dry, laced with a hint of amusement, though he wasn't quite sure whether he was joking or not.

Levi whispered back, the light footsteps of his approach muffled by the tension in the air. "That's the spirit." He stepped closer to Void, "But, we can always use a little chaos."

Void turned to face him, his brows furling, "You don't mean..."

"Bye!" Levi chuckled darkly, and he lightly dragged his foot back.

WHAM!

He delivered a swift kick to Void's back and sent him tumbling down.

Void yelped, "YOU DOG!", rolling down into the abyss. Void dug his hands into the rock, slowing his fall, and he clung to the rocks, skidding down till he reached the very bottom of the nest and disappeared.

Pahanin leaned over the edge, scratching his chin. He hummed, "Hmm.."

"Think he's dead?" Levi mimicked his pose and asked.

"Wouldn't worry about it." Pahanin shrugged, " Let's just make sure we survive and kill that thing." Light covered Pahanin's figure; he vanished into the dark.

"Gotcha." Levi scattered in smoke, following him down.

Void rubbed his hands, he grimaced in pain and glanced at the nest of the Swarm Prince before turning his eyes upwards to Levi and Pahanin. But the two were nowhere in sight, knowing the weight of the task ahead, Void chose to continue. Whatever he did, it would be fast, violent, and over before the Prince could scream for reinforcements.

"Just gotta be quick." Void heaved a short breath.

Lightning wreathed around his form, Void streaked towards The Prince's nest.

The swarm prince Garok dragged his blade across the dirt, its edge cutting grooves into the soft soil of the abyss. Garok's bones shivered. The abyss, it felt strange. For the first time in centuries, it felt foreign.

Something new was here.

Garok looked up, a bolt of light raced towards him, his hand and eyes narrowed. He was perplexed, flabbergasted, what...was that? Before he could process it, the bolt seemed to get closer and closer.

A thunderclap reverberated in the abyss, a blue bolt streaked past him, and he flinched. Garok whipped back, and a strange figure, wreathed in light, was standing across him. Garok's sword flared with power.

His jaw tightened; whatever this thing was, it had intruded into his ritual. Into his home, and it would pay. Garok took a mighty step forward, prepared to tear it to shreds.

"Whoa. Whoa..relax," Void waved him off, dusting his hands, "Let's not get too political here. You're attacking me for what? Cuz you're made of dark, and I of light?"

Garok stumbled, he paused, entirely confused, and only a grunt escaped his lips.

"Listen, buddy, that won't be flying in this era. Can't blame you, you're what? Like, a few centuries old?" Void crossed his arms and shook his head. He peeked at Garo, who was struck with silence and perplexed.

The Hive Knight held his sword close, his eyes scanned Void, and he paused. Garok grunte. He couldn't understand the presence before him. It felt...hollow, as if it wasn't even there. Garok flexed his palm, he raised his hand, and a sinister magic flickered and began to claw at the space around him.

"Oi!" Void stammered, "Calm down. Calm the hell down" he slowly unsheathed his sword and pale light enveloped his hands. "You put down yours, I put down mine. Let's make a deal."

Garok tensed; the pale light seemed dangerous. His understanding of the strange figure facing him was odd. What was this being trying to accomplish? Regardless of his thoughts, Garok couldn't sense any danger from him, yet at the same time, he couldn't understand him.

The Hive prince's grip on his sword loosened; the blade seemed to slide to the ground, its hilt still leaning against his palm. He croaked back to Void, signalling that he'd done his side of the agreement.

"Good, good." Void lowered his blade, and the pale light reeled back into the sword; he stabbed it into the ground. Void stepped closer to Garok, barehanded, examining the swarm prince.

His eyes turned Azure as he caught the trace of Crota's sword oath.

'Sure enough, ' Void's eyes flared. The trace was hanging over Garok's hand, like a chain wrapped around his soul. 'Seems like the swarm princes are more than just the oath keepers'

Void murmured to himself, 'They're somewhat like...prisoners?' He read the flow of the energy and came to one single conclusion. Crota's sword, similar to sword logic, was a symbiotic relation.

The swarm princes would gain power, but the cost was their souls being used to anchor Crota's emerald blade into reality- A cost the Hive were easily willing to pay.

"Ahm..." Void cleared his throat, taking a step back, "Seems like you're more civilised than I thought" He nodded to Garok, and the Hive prince growled back.

"Yeah, yeah. Ok, anyway, it seems like about the time when I wrap this up." Void rubbed his chin. He glanced at Garok, "GET HIM!" Void snapped.

....

Nothing happened.

Void looked to the right, and to the left....There was no movement; the shadows were eerily still. But he could swear he heard a muffled chuckle.

'Son of a...'

Garok stared back, his frown deepened, he gripped the sword in his hand, and the magic brimmed to life.

"Fine....I'll do it myself." Void grabbed the sword and took a stance.

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